In Her Captor's Arms
by Aelyna326
Summary: ONE SHOT. Katara has been held prisoner by the Fire Nation for months; broken in both body and spirit, she finds comfort in the one place she knows she shouldn't. Smut. Zuko/Katara Zutara


In Her Captor's Arms

Katara didn't know how long she had been locked in up that cell, it could have been years, it felt like it. In reality it was probably only a few months, but the poor hygiene and little food had done more than enough damage to her body. She had lost weight, a lot of it, her hair was dull, her skin was pale from lack of sun, and eyes had no shine in them anymore.

When the guards dragged her out she didn't fight, she didn't have any fight left. They threw her into a room of steam, and she blinked, confused, disorientated. "Bathe, the Fire Prince wants to see you." Upon closer inspection she could see it was a bath, the steam was thick, but she could see the outline of the two men by the door. "Try any bending and we'll make you suffer." She knew they would, and she had no intention of trying anything. Them being there made her feel uncomfortable, so she stripped her clothes quickly, ducking her body under the water, even though it was too hot. Soap presented itself, and there was a towel to wrap in when she got out, even a new dress (Fire Nation red) to step into. The guards openly watched her as she changed again, but she turned her back and ignored them.

Zuko looked up from the desk he'd been writing at, he seemed not to register her for a moment, "You. You look different. Leave us." He directed the guards, she noted that his hair was down, half covering his scar, she noted that his arms, revealed by the vest he was wearing, were larger and stronger than they had been, she noted that he was older and that his eyes looked tired. Then she looked away, down at her feet, hoping that whatever was happening would be over quickly, she didn't quite feel afraid, whatever happened tonight could be no worse than the nights spent in her cell.

"Have you eaten today?" She shook her head, he directed her to a bowl of fruit. She took a handful of grapes, eating quickly, never sure when they would be snatched away. "Careful, you'll make yourself ill." He passed her a glass of water, she drank deeply, it was clean, it reminded her of home. She put it down with bang against the desk. "Don't do this. Don't be kind to me. Don't give me hope, it's too cruel, even for you." He remained silent, watching her, she couldn't hold his gaze. So she looked down, admired the patterns on the rug. When he looked at her it was as if there was nothing there at all, no emotion behind her glassy eyes, some part of her had died.

"Katara..." That was the first time anyone had used her name in months, it was girl or slave if she was spoken to at all, it brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away, but not before he saw. "I want to go back to my cell." Her voice was choked with repressed emotion, bubbling up from somewhere didn't even know still existed, she didn't want to be here, reminded of a time when she was allowed to eat sweet fruits, when people called her by her name, reminded of the kind side Zuko spent so long hiding from the world. "You can't."  
"Please."  
"I'm sorry." He wasn't, he had no intention of sending her back there, he hadn't known she was even in the damn cells until a few days ago, then someone had mentioned the girl from the Southern Water Tribe and he'd gone to look. She'd been sleeping on the filthy floor, shivering, and he resolved to have her put somewhere, anywhere, else.

"What do you want from me?" Nothing, but that wasn't an answer he could give, he had a reputation to uphold. "I want to make a deal." She nodded slowly, ready to listen. But even in her state, she wouldn't give up Aang, or her brother, Appa or Momo, they were worth her life, more even. "I can promise you that you won't go back to those cells, that you'll be fed and bathed and looked after. You know I can deliver that."  
"Yes."  
"What would give me, in exchange?" More tears fell.  
"I'd give you anything you asked for, except what you want." He looked quizzical. "I won't give them up. I can't, I'm sorry..." She shouldn't have been apologising, but it wasn't meant for him, it was almost like she was saying it to her future self, the one who would scream at her from inside her head while she was curled on the floor of her cell, being kept awake by the mad ramblings and crude jeers of those in the cells next to her.

"I don't want them," He almost had then anyway, they were getting sloppy in their search for Katara, and he was catching up. "I want you." He reached out, brushing the tears away from her eyes, tilting her chin up, so she looked him in the eye. She felt a rush of confusion, and fear, and then acceptance. Anything was better than going back there. "You can have me." He lent forward and kissed her, gently at first, until she seemed to come alive, just a little, beneath his touch.

He pulled her forward, one arm around her waist, he could feel how thin she was, how easily she bended to his will, like a little reed on the banks of a river, bowing to the strong winds. "Zuko..." She whispered, when he pulled away to kiss down her neck, along her protruding collar bone. "Help me..."  
"Help you what?"  
"Forget." He could do that.

It wasn't exactly Stockholm syndrome, she had barely spent 10 minutes with him, maybe it was just overwhelming relief, and misplaced gratitude, but whatever it was, she felt safer with him that she had since she'd left her family and the Water Tribe.

He pulled the straps of the dress from her shoulders, letting it pool on the ground at her feet. He stepped back, for a moment as she stood there he saw a flash of the old her, proud and beautiful, desirable, even though her breasts had shrunk, and her ribs poked out from under the skin. Then she put her arms around herself, looking away, embarrassed. "Please put the lights out." Her voice was a whisper, a request he could ignore, but he snapped his fingers and they were plunged into darkness.

She felt his hands trail over her, outlining her body in the dark, he felt so warm, perhaps something common to Firebenders, perhaps her perception was just skewed after the last few months of cold floors and drafts. She shivered unconsciously, and he pulled her close, holding her for a few quiet moments. It was her who disturbed it, removing his shirt with shaking fingers, undoing the ties on his pants, until she could feel his flesh pressed against hers, infusing her with his warmth. His hands made their way over her again, slower this time, like a painter filling in the lines he'd already drawn, massaging her breasts until her nipples were hard and pert beneath his fingers, running down to cup her bottom, bringing her closer still. She let out a sigh, revelling in the heat, this time blossoming from inside her.

Her own hands ran over his back and shoulders, feeling the scars of a war he should never have had to fight in. She was too nervous to reach between them and touch his hardened length, but his roaming hands found her sex, and he carefully pushed one finger inside her, she let out a gasp at the alien sensation. He added another, beginning to slowly pump, until he could feel her juices on his fingers. "Oh..." She moaned, then cut herself off, embarrassed, but he laughed gently,  
"It's okay, you're supposed to feel like that." She certainly wasn't, he was the Fire Prince and she was his waterbender prisoner, they were supposed to hate each other. Those thoughts were pushed out of her head by the sensations assaulting her body.

He pulled his fingers out of her core, licking the juices off his fingers, making her blush in the darkness. Then, in one movement, he twisted them; so they fell gracefully onto his pallet. His arm kept her supported, she could feel his weight above her, a presence she couldn't deny, like the feeling building inside her since he'd had his fingers there. He started to kiss her again, working right down to her breasts, taking the nipples he'd previously toyed with into his mouth, suckling and nipping until she gasped and moaned out loud. He went further, his tongue plunging into her bellybutton, her breath stuttered.

She felt heat rise in her face when he moved lower, and she couldn't restrain a cry when he started to kiss those lips. His tongue moved in and out like his fingers had, she writhed against the sensation, craving _more_. Finally he resurfaced, chuckling at her breathy gasps as she tried to regain something like composure. She felt him guide his length to her entrance, brushing over it rhythmically, and she craved having him inside her. But as he made to enter her, she brought her lips to his ear, "Please be gentle, I've never..."  
"I will." He kissed her, a hand finding hers as he made the first thrust.

She gasped, biting back a cry of pain, and squeezed his hand. "It's okay, it gets better." He stilled inside her, waiting for her breathing to regulate. "Tell me when you're ready?" She could feel the tension in his arms as he restrained himself, and when she felt the pain ebb away, she nodded into his neck.

He brought himself out, then pushed back in slowly, this time the pain was eclipsed by pleasure. Again and again he moved in and out torturously, until her own hips were moving to meet him, to drive him deeper. Her legs wrapped around his of their own accord, anything to bring them closer. She gasped his name, and she heard him murmur hers in return.

His pace picked up, thrusting into her harder and faster, until she felt him drive himself to the hilt every time. The heat inside her was building to a furnace, and every time his length pounded her womanhood the flames leapt higher. "Oh... oh... Zuko!" She cried out his name as shudders wracked her body, and for a moment she was completely oblivious to all but the pleasure burning through her. Her walls tightening around him drove him swiftly over the edge too, and he cried out her name in his moment of oblivion. His seed filled her, and he almost collapsed on top of her.

They lay together a while, until their breath began to regulate, then he pulled out of her slowly, carefully, and lay next to her. She turned to bury her face against his chest, and his arms encircled her. He pulled the embroidered blankets over them, keeping in the warmth from their exertion. She had never felt so sated, nor so safe, than in the arms of her captor.


End file.
